


The path not taken

by Markzucciniburger



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Racial slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markzucciniburger/pseuds/Markzucciniburger
Summary: Part one of a fic I made. What if Javier didn’t leave John to die? What if Javier decides that Dutch is leading them astray and Javier doesn’t become a piece of shit.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. The stone that changed the path of the river

The Path Not Taken

Chapter 1

Javier gripped Hachetas Reins as the horses spring nearly launched him in the air. The humidity was thick, making his clothes stick to his body. Gun shots cracked in the air, as he, and the rest of the gang struggled to keep up with the charging locomotive. His head was on a swivel as colonel favors forces surrounded them. 

“We gotta get on that Train, if we wanna survive!” Micah gravelly voice broke through the unending gun shots.

Micah, and Joe leaped onto the top of the train with little trouble. Javier followed scrambling on the side to the train cart top, narrowly missing a stray bullet. He pulled John to the top, now all who was left was Arthur. He coughed severely, before steadying himself on top of his white Arabian. And with a struggled breath, leaped to the top. He would have bounced off had it not been for John catching him and pulling him to his feet, he took a struggled breath and coughed some more, a splash of crimson staining his sleeve. Arthur’s face was pale as a ghost, and his eyes were yellowing. Javier and everyone else knew that Arthur didn’t have long, and it broke javiers heart knowing that Arthur wouldn’t be as loyal as he once was.

“Greaser, behind you!”

Javier sounds around, and hip fired two slugs into an ambushing train worker. Williamson was dumb, but he had to admit he had his uses.

“Alright, we gotta stop this train. Onward and upward!”

Micah thumbed back the hammer on his pistols and sprinted forward, with Arthur and the rest begrudgingly followed. The rumble of the train on the track echoed in the gangs war drum, until a gunshot would and johns howl of pain broke the humdrum, and his body disappeared off the side of the train.

“John!!” Arthur shouted. As he spoke, a cart infront of them burst into flames, and the shockwave knocked everyone back. 

“We gotta keep moving!” Williamson shouted, panic evident in his voice. 

Javier froze in place, looking back and forth between hopping the cart and joining the gang, the spot where John fell off the train, likely to his death. 

“Javier come on!” A voice called out. It could have been Arthur, Bill, or anybody, and Javier wouldn’t have been able to tell. He couldn’t help but think of Abigail, losing the man she loved the same way he had lost his beloved Isabel, to that cerdo cabrón General mertez. The memory of her battered and beaten body lying there clinging to life haunted his nightmares for years to come. After filleting the general in his kitchen and leaving the body for his family to find, he knew he could never go back home, and he would never see Isabel again. Wether she was alive or not didn’t matter, he had made himself a killer in her name, and he would never forgive himself for that. Could he really forgive himself if he aloud John to die, and leave Abbigail widowed and Little jack without a father? Jack, a boy who never chose to live on the run, having his father be butchered for reasons he couldn’t understand, just as His own father had been so many years ago?

He had made his decisions

“Escuella, if you don’t move your ass, you’re on your own!” Micah snarled.

“Hang on John, I’m coming!”

Javier sprinted toward the service ladder and slid down.

“What the hell is he-“

“Forget him Bill, he made his choice!”

Javier leaped to the grassy field a infront of him, and shot an oncoming soldier in the head on reflex. The soldiers lifeless body was dragged along pathetically by his stallion. 

The horse neighed and raised its front, threatening to crush Javier. He rolled out of the steeds horseshoes and hopped on it, directing it back towards Marstons direction, galloping full speed. 

“John! John! John where are you!” Javier shouted, his vocal chords straining with each shout. After about 20 minutes of galloping, he caught a glimpse of something in the distance. He traveled up the hillside, and dismounted, hiding behind a thick oak tree. Infront of them was a group of Soldiers on their horses, circling John, blood turning the shoulder of his shirt and jacket a dull crimson.

“Well well well. Look at what we’ve got ourselves here, boys. One of Van Der Lindes boys, with a busted wing.” One of the soldiers laughed 

“Looks like the colonel will reward us well for this little catch. But on the other hand…”

The soldier draw his revolver and slid a round into one of the chambers.

“You’ve killed quite a few of our boys. They had families, children. And I reckon I oughta get some pay back, for all the blood you’ve shed, boy.”

The group chuckled as the soldier aimed the gun at Johns head, his intentions cleared.

John closed his eyes, ready to accept what was coming. Until, a barrage of gun shots rang out from out of sight, and after some shouting and wet chokes he opened his eyes to see the group lying on the ground bleeding, with their horses having fled. Most appeared to be dead. 

“John!” A familiar voice rang out.

John coughed and struggled to his feet, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder.

“Javier…you..you came back for me.”

Javier lifted John to his feet and helped him onto his recently commandeered horse.

“Thank…you…did Dutch…did..did Dutch send you for me.”

Javier swallowed against the lump in his throat. After a moment he spoke up.

“No. I came back myself. We gotta get back to camp.”

The sun was beginning to set, as John kept his hand pressed to his wound, struggling to keep on the horse, bumping and galloping against him. Javier kept having the same thought. Should he have saved John? But Dutch kept implying he was a traitor. But, Dutch couldn’t be wrong, right? He wants what’s best of the gang. Would he have sent for Arthur or Williamson for himself if he was left behind? The cold night air brought him out of his panicked thoughts.

“Almost there John…just hang on”  
Javier knew that the Pinkertons would be hot on the gangs trail, and he had to warn the others. 

“Gotta keep moving. Got to.”

End of chapter one


	2. “This is where we part ways, son.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2. Bit short, but this is so I have some time to think of a good conclusion in this or the next chapter.

“Just hang on John, we’re almost there!”

“That bastard left me to die….”

“Enough John! Just rest! DUTCH!!!”

Javier shouted with strained vocal cords. Making their way up the narrow path to beaver hollow

“Pinkertons are on their way! We have to-“ “DUUUUTCH!” 

John’s gravelly voice drown out Javiers warning. 

“You left me Dutch! You left me to die!” 

“We..thought you was dead son.” Dutch managed to struggle out as John was helped off Hacheta by Javier.. In a moment of silence, gun fire cracked, and mrs Grimshaw was on the ground, wailing in a pool of her own blood, a bullet would in her chest. Dutch drew his twin revolvers from their holsters, aiming in Arthur’s general direction only.

“NOW….WHO Is loyal to me….and WHO is betraying me?!” 

John moved to Arthur’s side, revolver in hand, with Bill and Micah moving to Dutch’s. Javier began to follow them to Dutch’s side before he was stopped by Dutch’s Revolver pointed star his chest.

“Not you son.”

“But…Dutch”

“BUT nothing! You chose your side when you went for the traitor.”

Javier has been shot, stabbed, beaten, and tortured time and time again. Never once did it never hurt as much as Dutch’s rejection. Tears welled in his eyes, as he struggled to stammer out a response.   
‘

’Say something, anything!’ he shouted in his mind. But his lips would not form words “I….du…ihh” He snapped out of his stupor when he felt a large hand on his shoulder pulling him back

“We got to get out of here Javier. Help me. Please.” Arthur’s words had snapped Javier back to focus, and he slung his bolt action rifle off of his shoulder. Arthur coughed, Crimson blood stained his sleeve, as he motioned Javier to follow to follow John and himself into the cave. Javier wiped the tears from his eyes with his bandanna and steeled his nerves, pulling the slider back and locked. If John could get a shot at life away from gang life maybe he could.


End file.
